


And All We Have, We Lose

by ChocolateChipMaster



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [23]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: An absurd amount of time skips, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Memory Loss, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 11:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20435639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateChipMaster/pseuds/ChocolateChipMaster
Summary: Keith curled into a tighter ball, hunching his shoulders and pressing his hands between his legs to try and hide how badly they were shaking. He watched Shiro with narrowed, scared eyes and opened his mouth to say the worst three words Shiro had ever heard in his life.“Who are you?”





	And All We Have, We Lose

**Author's Note:**

> For the 'Memory Loss' square on my BTHB
> 
> Anon requested: For bthb, could you do Shiro and Keith with memory loss, either of them forgetting the other (maybe because of something Haggar did)?? I would looooooove if there was an emotional build up to a happy ending though!
> 
> You asked for an emotional build-up and god I hope I delivered. Be prepared for time skips and angst. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The image would haunt Shiro for the rest of his life. 

One moment, he and Keith were battling Haggar and her army of clones, back-to-back, and the next, Keith had let out a low grunt and collapsed from a hit to the head. His body convulsed with dark magic and then he went very, very still. 

“Keith!” Shiro screamed, cutting his glowing hand through another clone that exploded in a shower of black dust with a terrible scream. He couldn’t stop for even a moment to gauge whether or not Keith was _ alive _ (because he _ had _ to be, he just _ had _to) and kicked a Haggar away from them. He turned as fast as he could, deactivating his arm and scooping Keith into them, cradling him against his chest. 

He ducked underneath a sharp pair of claws that would have probably decapitated him if he was just a second too slow and took off across the room. The sound of cackling laughter chased him even if the Haggars did not. 

He kept his arms wound tightly around Keith, listening quietly to the sound of static in his ears. The farther he got from Haggar’s influence the better the signal for his comms would be. He had to call off the mission and hoped they would forgive him for letting this chance to attack one of the Galra’s main laboratories slip away. Right now, Keith was what mattered. He still hadn’t moved in Shiro’s arms. Not even when Shiro stumbled over a loose metal plate. Not even when Shiro jerked sharply to the right to turn the corner. It made Shiro dizzy. 

“-iro! Shiro, come in!” 

Relief flooded Shiro and crawled up his throat to choke him. He let out the breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding, catching sight of Black’s enormous golden eyes watching him from across the hallway, waiting. 

“I’m here,” he said, panting and out of breath. 

“Oh thank the stars!” Coran said first. “We’d all assumed the worst when we caught sight of Haggar’s signature and you suddenly weren’t responding to anything.” 

“I’m fine,” Shiro said. 

“And Number Four?” 

“He’s-” Shiro’s words choked in his throat as he stole another glance down at Keith’s ashen face. “I don’t know. Haggar hit him and he just...dropped. I don’t know if--I...” he trailed off, unable to continue. He was barely aware of the concerned brush in the back of his mind as he climbed Black’s ramp and into the cockpit. 

“Oh dear,” Allura murmured. She cleared her throat a moment later, assuming control over the mission since Shiro was clearly not up to the task. “Paladins, return to the ship. We’ll do this another day.” 

For once, there was no argument. None of them grumbled about losing their chance or reminded the group that the laboratory would vanish to another sector of the universe as soon as they left. Maybe they did, but Shiro was no longer listening. 

He pulled the emergency bed out and dumped Keith onto it. His head lolled, strands of black hair sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead. The position Shiro had dropped him in had left him in some kind of half-self-hug, with one arm wrapped around his middle and the other straight and motionless at his side. 

Shiro exhaled slowly, pausing to take off a glove and press his hand to Keith’s forehead to feel for a fever. 

“You’ll be okay,” he told Keith, his voice too loud in the empty cockpit. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure himself or Keith, who couldn’t even hear him. 

“We’re in luck,” Coran announced, pulling a very strange contraption away from Keith’s body, lying motionless on the examination table. “He’s not injured.” 

Shiro froze, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “He’s...not?” 

“No,” Coran hummed. “Which is peculiar in its own right, as Haggar is not one known for letting her victims, as you say, ‘off the hook’ so easily. Perhaps Number Four was lucky.” 

Shiro wasn’t so sure. “Was there anything odd? Something that didn’t line up?” 

“Well…” Coran hummed. He made his way around the examination table to Shiro, showing him the tablet. He pointed to Keith’s head, zooming in so Shiro could see the red outline near the center of his brain. “There is a bit of funny stuff going on with his...what was it called again?” 

“Hippocampus,” Shiro said, throat tight. 

“Yes, that, thank you,” Coran said. “Anyways, it looks like there was a bit of a hit to his hippocampus there, which might cause a few memory issues. It looks minor, though. Likely, he won’t even remember the fight at all.” 

“Okay,” Shiro forced himself to relax, letting his arms fall to his sides as he stole another anxious look down at Keith on the bed. “He’s...still unconscious though. Is that bad?” 

“Not at all,” Coran said. “Perfectly normal, in fact. Seems the hit only knocked him out. He’ll be up and about in a few vargas.” 

“Okay,” Shiro exhaled slowly and with it, he let all of the fear and anxiety ebb away. Keith was okay. He was going to _ be _okay. Everything was fine now. “Thank you, Coran.” 

“Of course!” Coran beamed. 

“Do you mind if…?” Shiro gestured pathetically to the chair beside the examination table. Coran’s expression softened. 

“Of course not,” he hummed. “Here, I’ll give his medical tablet to you-” he extended his arm, the tablet in his hand, “-holler if anything changes with his condition, alright?” 

“Alright,” Shiro accepted the tablet and tucked it up against his arm. “I’ll be sure to.” 

Coran bid him a cheerful goodbye and left the room. The infirmary was silent after that, save for the ever-present humming of the Castleship as they meandered through space. Shiro awkwardly lowered himself into the chair by Keith’s side, glancing at his face one more time before looking back at the diagram in his hand. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” he said again, more to himself than ever before. 

It was just before dinner that Keith finally began to awaken. 

Shiro, who had been dozing, slouched back in his chair with his neck at an awkward angle to ensure he didn’t outright tumble to the ground, shot up at the first hint of movement. He scooted to the edge of the chair, holding his breath as Keith shifted, brow furrowing like it always did before he woke up. 

“Keith?” He breathed, daring himself to hope. 

Keith’s eyes fluttered open. He blinked several times, clearly unused to the light, before taking in his surroundings. He looked confused, panic settling over his face. He shot up like a bullet, looking around like he had no idea where he was or what he was doing here. Figuring the memory loss Coran had alluded to had left Keith’s memories with him on the ship and began with him in the infirmary, Shiro reached out to rest his hand on Keith’s arm. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “Everything’s good. You’re just in the infirmary at the Castle, is all.” 

Keith’s head shot to the side. He let out a loud, strangled cry and _ slapped _Shiro’s hand away from him. He shoved himself backward, toppling off of the table. A loud crash followed as a nearby stand with several Altean tools on it clattered to the floor. 

Shiro stood up, hoping Keith wasn’t having another relapse, hoping he was just confused as to why he was in the infirmary instead of a Galra laboratory and rounded the table. Keith had pressed himself to the wall, chest heaving with every panicked breath, eyes darting around to take note of every possible escape route. 

“Keith,” Shiro spoke and Keith’s eyes snapped to him. “It’s okay. I know this is probably weird for you, but Coran said you might have suffered from a little bit of memory loss so there’s no need to…” he trailed off, taking notice of the look in Keith’s eyes, how they were narrowed in distrust, lips pulled back into a snarl. “Keith?” he asked. 

Keith curled into a tighter ball, hunching his shoulders and pressing his hands between his legs to try and hide how badly they were shaking. He watched Shiro with narrowed, scared eyes and opened his mouth to say the worst three words Shiro had ever heard in his life. 

“Who are you?” 

“What do you _ mean _he doesn’t remember anything?!” 

Pidge’s shrill demand made Shiro wince and his ears ring. Across from him, Pidge had stood up, chair toppled over and the crack it had made against the floor lingering in the air. Beside her, Lance and Hunk had frozen in remarkably similar positions, with their forks halfway to their mouths. The food had slipped right off but Shiro wasn’t even sure they’d even noticed. 

“I mean, he doesn’t remember anything,” Shiro said. He couldn’t even turn to face Allura and Coran at the table, too. His teammates' reactions had been bad enough. “Not me, not any of you, not even the Castle. He freaked out when I tried to touch him and demanded to know where someone named ‘Bill’ was.” The name left a bad taste in Shiro’s mouth - it was the name of one of Keith’s foster parents. The same one he’d been with when they’d first met. 

Which meant that anything that came after that...Keith didn’t remember. Not the Garrison, not the Kerberos Mission, nothing. 

Absolutely _ nothing. _

A part of him wanted to demand answers from Coran. He’d said that the damage would be minimal. That at most, Keith wouldn’t have remembered the battle with Haggar. But this? This was so much worse. It wasn’t what Coran had promised. But blaming him was unfair. Nobody could have seen this coming, after all. 

Shiro breathed out to try and calm down but it didn’t help him feel any better. 

“What do we do…?” Hunk asked, glancing anxiously around the table. 

“Is it reversible?” Lance wondered. “Maybe we can just...toss him in a pod and when he comes out he’ll be all grumpy and normal again.” 

“The pod only heals physical injuries, not mental ones,” Allura reminded him. “Worst-case scenario, Haggar blocked off those memories normally.” 

“And the best-case scenario?” Pidge asked tentatively. 

“I can use what little alchemy I know of to try and reverse the witch’s magic,” Allura said simply but she didn’t sound sure of herself. 

“First things first,” Coran said finally. Shiro looked at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but Coran had kept his face impressively blank. “I will run another scan on him and see what the real damage is and return to you all with my diagnosis.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Shiro said. 

Coran nodded and did not protest. 

“Is he still in the infirmary?” Allura asked. 

Shiro nodded. He’d had to lock the door from the outside behind him, but he had. He felt terrible about it, knowing how much Keith _ hated _being locked into rooms, but it was the only way he’d be sure Keith wasn’t going to try anything. In his new volatile state, Shiro couldn’t rule out the option that Keith would bolt to one of the pods and try to make his way back to Earth on his own. 

Coran stood. “I’ll check now if that’s alright. I want to be sure of what we’re dealing with.” 

Shiro nodded and accompanied him out the door. 

The air between them was tense and quiet as they made their way through the ground. Coran kept his gaze forward and lips pursed, clearly deep in thought. He was surprisingly still despite the situation, as Shiro knew Coran to have a habit of running a hand through his hair when he was stressed. It was an odd sight to behold. 

“I’m sorry,” Coran said finally. 

“It’s okay,” Shiro replied automatically. “You didn’t know.” 

“Yes,” Coran agreed quietly. “But I should have.” 

They didn’t speak for the rest of the way. 

When Coran unlocked the door to step inside, the lights were still on and Keith hadn’t budged from the corner Shiro had left him in. Hitching on a smile, Coran made his way into the room with Shiro right behind him. Keith went tense. 

“Hello, Number Four!” Coran said and to anyone else, his voice would have sounded just as upbeat as ever. But Shiro knew Coran and knew that whatever act he was trying to sell was fake. “How are you feeling?” 

Keith dodged the question. “Who are _ you? _Where am I? Did you kidnap me?” 

“No, no, nothing like that!” Coran said. “You’re just suffering from a tad bit of memory loss. Could you get out of the corner and lay on that table there? I want to run a few scans and figure out what caused it.” 

Keith bared his teeth and shrank further into the corner. 

Shiro sighed, resigned and afraid. “Keith.”

Keith’s eyes darted to him and slowly, he obeyed, climbing to his feet and making his way step by careful step to the table. He hopped on, making sure he kept every limb as close to him as possible. Shiro blinked in surprise - he hadn’t expected that to actually _ work. _

With a cheery hum that sounded nothing like the Coran that Shiro was used to, Coran made his way over to Keith and began to assemble everything he needed, pulling off the tape from a few wires and reaching out to press them to Keith’s forehead. Keith leaned away, glaring at Coran, but found Shiro across the room and then relented after a moment’s hesitation. 

After ten-odd minutes of silence, Coran finished. He gently unpeeled the wires away from Keith’s skin and gave Shiro a meaningful look. The two of them stepped outside with the medical tablet from before clutched in Coran’s hands. 

“It was far worse then my initial scans had said it was,” Coran murmured. “Had Haggar just the slightest more power in her swing then she would have wiped his memory clean. We must count ourselves lucky. Luckily, the effect is not permanent. With time, the memories will return.” 

“Is there anything we can do to make it happen faster?” Shiro asked, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of his voice. 

“I’m afraid not,” Coran murmured. Shiro’s stomach plummeted to go live in his feet. “The best we can do is...ride it out.” 

“Okay,” Shiro said, glancing back at the still-open door. Keith was kicking his legs on the table, slouched and looking confused and scared. 

_ Ride it out, _he thought. 

He wasn’t sure why it felt like a death sentence. 

“And this...this is your room.” 

The door slid open before them and Keith took the first wary step inside. He kept one hand on the knife at his hip, almost as if he were afraid of something jumping out of the closet to hurt him. Shiro realized with a sinking sensation that with the few memories Keith was currently living with, that was probably an everyday occurrence for him. 

As soon as it became apparent nothing in here was put to hurt him, Keith slowly let his defenses lower and he stepped into the room. It was bare - just as Keith had left it the morning of the mission - and Shiro couldn’t help but wish that Keith was a little more like the others and adamant that they get souvenirs for every planet they went to. But he’d never been one much for sentimentality. Living in the past wasn’t something Keith was good at. Maybe that was why it was so hard for him to get his memories back. 

Unconsciously or not, Keith began to drift towards the hook on the wall. Hanging from it was a familiar red jacket that Keith had for years, one that was all too familiar to Shiro. He stepped in carefully behind Keith, making sure the younger boy could see every movement and glanced up at the jacket. 

As if in a trance, Keith lifted it from the hook and ran his fingers over the well-worn fabric. Shiro looked at him, hoping to see a trace of a nostalgic smile or even just recognition in his face, but there was nothing. He tried hard to pretend like his heart didn’t twist in his chest. 

“Recognize it?” Shiro asked despite already knowing the answer. He tried and failed to keep his voice steady. 

“No,” Keith shook his head. 

“I bought that for you,” Shiro said quietly. “A few months before the Kerberos Mission. You protested when I gave it to you but...I’d seen you looking at it a few weeks earlier in one of the shops we passed on our days off.” 

“Oh,” Keith said. He lifted one of the cuffs to stare at it, messing with one of the loose threads. He paused, glancing at Shiro out of the corner of his eye and then immediately pretended like he hadn’t. “How...how many memories did you say I was missing again?” 

Shiro’s throat felt dry. “Three years.” 

Keith didn’t look at him. “Oh.” 

Quietly, he put the jacket back on the hook and made his way around Shiro and out of the room. 

It was only after Keith’s footsteps faded far down the hallway and he was sure that he was gone that Shiro even allowed his lip to tremble. 

Shiro found Keith sitting in the Red Lion’s hangar. 

He wasn’t doing much of anything, just sitting with his legs crossed and his hands in his lap, staring up at Red with a guarded look on his face. Gently, Shiro rapped against the wall to let Keith know he was there and his brother jumped, hand flying to the knife at his hip. He didn’t relax, even after he saw that it was Shiro. 

“Hey, buddy,” Shiro said quietly, deciding not to ask how his day with Lance had gone. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing,” Keith answered automatically. “Just...sitting.” 

Normally, Shiro would like to respond with some kind of coy comment, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he leaned his shoulder against the wall and looked up at the lion towering above them and wondered if Red was trying her best to chase away the last of Haggar’s magic that kept Keith’s memories sealed away. 

The lion’s expression, however, betrayed nothing. 

“She’s trying to talk to me,” Keith said suddenly. His voice was so quiet that for a moment, Shiro wasn’t even sure he’d spoken. He rose to his feet, reaching up to splay his hand against the air as if pressing his palm to Red’s muzzle. “She’s trying to talk to me,” he said again. “But I can’t hear her.” 

Shiro couldn’t bring himself to answer. It made sense, after all. Keith didn’t remember the bond between him and his lion so it had all but vanished on his end. Red must have been distraught at the realization. 

He bowed his head and allowed himself to wonder if the pain she was feeling was even a fraction compared to his. 

“It’s been two weeks.” 

“I know, Pidge.” 

Pidge tucked her head up against Shiro’s chest, trembling. Another attempt to get Keith to remember at least _ something _had ended in a disastrous failure that resulted in Keith storming from the room to go hole himself back up in his bedroom he was staying in a lot more recently. 

“I just wanted to see if he remembered the cupcakes,” Pidge whispered. 

“I know, Pidge,” said Shiro. 

“I want him to remember.” 

“I know. Me too.” 

“I want to be a family again,” Pidge said, her voice growing weaker and more hoarse with every word. “We’re not a family without Keith.” 

The tears stung Shiro’s eyes and he hid his face in Pidge’s short hair to hide them. “I know,” he said, voice muffled. 

Pidge inhaled shakily, gripping Shiro’s shirt tightly in both hands as she shook and trembled in his comforting hug. She swallowed thickly. 

“It’s been two weeks,” she said again. 

This time, Shiro didn’t have the strength to respond. 

If there was one thing that brought Shiro sparse amounts of comfort amidst one of the worst times of his life, it was that Keith had returned to training. 

He spent most of his time alternating between hiding in his room and training, which was not too different a routine that he had before all of this. Granted, he had always shown up for mealtimes before he’d lost his memory, and now Shiro was pretty sure Keith went when he knew nobody would be in the kitchen, but it was at least somewhat normal. 

If any of this could be called normal. 

Tentatively, Shiro made his way into the training deck as Keith finished off the last bot and it clattered to the floor. He called for the simulation to end and his bayard shimmered and returned to normal in his hand. He’d picked up the bayard mechanics quickly, too, but Keith had always been a fast learner. 

“Hey,” Shiro said. 

Keith tensed. “Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you around these past few days,” Shiro remarked, moving a bit closer. 

“Yeah well...I’ve just been...busy,” Keith said with a lopsided shrug. 

“Busy,” Shiro repeated but didn’t pry. He turned back to where the sentry had been just a moment earlier. “You’re still a good fighter, in case you were curious.” 

The slight upturn of Keith’s lips spoke far more than anything Keith would ever be able to say. “Thanks, Shiro.” 

“No problem,” Shiro murmured and let Keith dart around him to leave the training hall. 

He left a gaping void in his wake. 

“I think I got him to remember something,” Lance said one day during dinner. Shiro jerked so suddenly he smashed his knee into the underside of the table, startling everyone. Shiro had no time to apologize or nurse his throbbing knee and instead leaned far across the table. 

“You did?!” He demanded. 

“Yeah…?” Lance blinked. “I called him ‘Mullet’ out of habit and he turned around and stared at me like I’d turned purple or something. When I asked him what was wrong he said ‘nothing’ in that way where there’s clearly something up and left.” 

“Mullet,” Pidge repeated. “_ That’s _ what he remembers first? Out of everything, a stupid _ nickname _is what finally starts working?” 

“In my defense,” Lance pointed his fork at her. “It’s a very accurate nickname.” 

Hunk was the next to get Keith to remember something. He’d offhandedly mentioned Shay - just a quiet comment to himself, wondering how she was doing, and Keith had dropped all of the cleaning supplies he was carrying to the bathroom and turned to stare at Hunk with the clouded expression that was usually over his eyes nowadays suddenly clear. 

“Shay?” He repeated. 

“Uh, yeah?” Hunk raised an eyebrow. “That’s what I said.” He gave Keith a small smile. “You wouldn’t remember her, but we saved her and her living planet - called the-” 

“The Balmera,” Keith finished for him. He turned away to stare up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open like he’d had the universe’s greatest epiphany. “The living planet. Allura used her Quintessence to put it back together.” 

“Yeah,” Hunk breathed. “How did you…?” 

“I don’t know,” Keith said, equally as quiet. 

And Shiro, watching with a bucket full of water in hand, allowed himself to hope for the first time in a long time that things were starting to get better.

There was a surprising amount of grime on the lions. 

Shiro realized this after a slow day when he realized Black’s paws looked more off-white then anything and decided a full wash was long overdue for his lion. He got the biggest bucket of water he could find, climbed awkwardly up onto her back, and started scrubbing, surprised at just how much gross alien junk was caked onto the metal. 

He worked silently, listening idly to the Altean music Coran had given him and wondering how any of the warbling coming from the speakers sounded like words. He could probably call either of the Alteans in the hangar with him to tell him what the song meant, but he’d probably just end up getting a long-winded explanation of the history of that particular genre or something. Shiro was in no mood for a lecture right now. 

The monotonous task of washing Black was soothing to Shiro. He fell into an easy routine, allowing himself to relax for the first time in weeks - maybe even a full month. He really couldn’t remember how long it had been since Keith’s accident, as he’d lost track of the days and time was hard up in space. But recently, more events sounded familiar to him. Pidge had mentioned the Kerberos Mission during training one day and Keith’s eyes had lit up like he’d understood and he sat there for a full five minutes, just staring at Shiro. Beyond that though, there was nothing. 

Shiro sighed, leaning back to allow his aching back some relief and wiped some sweat from his brow. He reached over to dunk the hand holding his sponge into the water (it was rapidly turning brown from the accumulated gunk) and sat there for a moment, admiring his handiwork. 

Then, the door slid open. 

“ _ Shiro!”  _

The shriek of his name caught Shiro off guard and he panicked, flailing with his free hand and accidentally knocking the water bucket off of Black’s back and sending it toppling to the ground. Dirty water splashed all over the floor and Shiro mentally lamented the fact that he’d have to clean it. Peeking over to see who had called him, Shiro found Keith standing there, chest heaving like he’d just run a marathon. 

“Keith?” He called. “What’s wrong, buddy?” 

Keith murmured something that Shiro could not hear. Shiro knitted his eyebrows. 

“I can’t hear you, bud,” he said. “Here just...hang on. I’ll be right down.” 

Awkwardly, he slid off of Black and landed lightly on his feet in a puddle of water. Trailing it after him, Shiro approached Keith who - he realized - was wearing his jacket again. 

“Shiro,” he said breathlessly. 

“Yeah?” Shiro raised an eyebrow. 

“You and I--we were brothers.” 

“More or less,” Shiro said, frowning. He wondered what had brought this sudden change on. Keith had to have some reason for this, right? 

“I remember then,” Keith breathed. “Shiro, you  _ saved  _ me from my foster parents. You brought me to the Garrison. You went missing at Kerberos and then crash-landed in the desert in a year later. Shiro I-” he inhaled sharply, eyes wide. “I  _ remember.”  _

The declaration hit Shiro like a ton of bricks. He held his breath, desperately hoping that this wasn’t a lie, wasn’t a cruel dream the universe was forcing on him. 

“You...you do?” He choked out. “You remember? Everything?” 

“ _ Everything,”  _ Keith confirmed. 

In two long strides, Shiro approached Keith and pulled him into him, wrapping his arms tightly around him and pulling him into his chest. Keith hugged him back in turn, his fingers trembling with how tightly he gripped the back of Shiro’s shirt in his hands. 

Awkwardly, Shiro lifted his hand to press it to the back of Keith’s head, tangling his fingers in the unruly raven hair. He felt like all the unbearable pressure of the past few weeks had finally faded, the hard lump of pain that had been resting in his gut dissipating into a wonderful rush of euphoria. 

He was  _ so  _ happy. 

Things were okay. 

Keith remembered. 

Keith  _ remembered.  _

“Thank God,” he choked out and Keith could only nod, clutching Shiro as if he’d disappear if he let go. The two of them sank to the floor in a tangle of limbs. Shiro’s eyes pricked with happy tears. He’d never been so relieved in his entire life. “Welcome back,” he murmured in Keith’s ear, pulling back with both his hands on his little brother’s shoulders. 

Keith smiled. “It’s good to be back.” 

**Author's Note:**

> That was fun
> 
> I don't torture Shiro nearly enough as I should
> 
> Please don't take that out of context 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> If you'd like to see all of my prompts for Bad Things Happen Bingo, you can find them all [here](https://chocolatechip-master.tumblr.com/tagged/bad-things-happen-bingo)! All of the prompts have been requested, however, and so BTHB inbox is closed. But if you have a prompt you want me to write, feel free to let me know! Or, if you just have a question, feel free to ask!


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